


A Thousand Pieces

by NeoVenus22



Category: Power Rangers Dino Thunder
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-09
Updated: 2010-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-06 01:20:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeoVenus22/pseuds/NeoVenus22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A life, broken into fragments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Thousand Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: General series.

He sees orange. It's bright, but it's muted, like a sunset through a window. But it's larger than that, like a blanket, maybe. It's warm. He's warm.

Crying. He's crying. _Want food_. Someone else is crying, louder, _get my food_. _Mine_. He bawls.

"Let's see how well you can catch, boys." A brand new mitt in his hands. It's itchy and uncomfortable and feels weird. Eric is a better catcher than he is, but he's faster.

"That's a very good drawing, Conner." Miss Greene is smiling at him. Greene like the color. It's her favorite color. He's made a flower. The grass is green. The flower is red. His favorite color. She smiles.

It's my dump truck. No, it's mine. No, it's _mine_. It's mine! _It's mine!_ MINE! _MINE!_ mineminemineminemineminemine...

His knee is gushing blood. "You shouldn't run so fast, Conner. You might hurt yourself." His mom has a band-aid, it's got sports things on it. Baseball, football, soccer ball. She's patting his head. "My brave boy." He's not crying.

His legs are burning. Sweat is dripping in his face. He kicks hard, and the ball sails cleanly into the net. His dad is smiling. "Way to go, Conner. You're really good at this."

A golden ball of fur and a grinning face. A wet tongue slides over his cheek. Eric is laughing and on all fours and is barking louder than Maverick is.

His door is closed, but he can still hear. "Don't you dare talk to me in that tone of voice, like you're some kind of saint... Don't walk away from me!" A crashing sound, a slamming door, an engine in the distance, and suddenly Eric is sitting at his feet and neither of them are talking.

Maverick is stretched out on the silver table. Something is crusted in the corner of his mouth, and his eyes are a weird color, and his mom is crying when they stick in the needle. Eric doesn't speak. They bury him in the backyard with a wooden cross.

His legs are burning. Sweat is dripping in his face, and he has to blink twice as often to see. He kicks hard, and the ball sails cleanly into the net. A whistle sounds, and one of his teammates tackles him. Everybody is screaming at the top of their lungs, him included. He feels like the entire world can hear him scream.

She's in his lap, and her tongue is in his mouth, and her shirt is thin as he slides his hands up under it. Her skin is a little sweaty, but soft, and round and smooth and she bites his lip.

"She's all yours, Conner." She's sitting majestically in the driveway, long and smooth and red and gleaming. Conner takes her for a glorious first drive, first testing her limits on the back roads of Reefside, then a parade route through town to show her off.

"Boys, your father and I have decided—" His mom keeps the house, and it's bigger without Eric and Dad. He didn't want to leave anyway. All of his friends are here. He won't get to be a starter if he leaves; he'll have to try out all over again. His mom cries for a week.

"You're smarter than this, Conner. We both know you are." The guidance counselor is fat, gray woman, and he's staring out the window instead. "I don't understand why you're only barely getting by." Her head is sort of round, like a soccer ball. "You have to keep your grades up if you want to stay on the team."

The bell rings as he kicks the ball clear into the net. The sun is beating down, and he's at the top of his game, his legs and his brain are working together perfectly today, and he doesn't even care if he's missing first period on his first day.

The rock is radiating heat. It's sort of orangey-red, and it's flowing all through him and suddenly he feels different. Better. In a way that he can't name, and can't understand.

A little girl hugs him around the waist tightly. It's warm, but it's a warmth that lingers long after she's gone.

They stay so late studying that they fall asleep. He's spread out across the table, drooling on his math homework, when Hayley comes in, laughs at them, and makes them all smoothies.

When that final flash of light recedes, he's all alone in this empty place. He's been in it longer than he's been in that other place, but he doesn't want to be here. Already he misses that other place. He'd give anything to be that warm again.

Eric pats him on the shoulder. "Didn't think you'd make it this far, bro." His friends laugh and then they throw their hats in the air. Someone takes a picture.

Four beers before he goes to bed that night, and two coffees before he can go to class. He has to remember to ask for an extension on his art history paper. He has to remember to call his mother back. The girl on his bed takes off her shirt and it lands on the phone.

Eric calls him. It's already dark outside. Dad's getting remarried. The woman's nice, but sort of bland. Mom doesn't go to the wedding. He and Eric are the only ushers. He hooks up with one of his stepmom's friends at the reception, and then he's over it.

His engine dies, and he feels like crying. The mechanic tells him that 'classic' parts are harder and harder to come by, and it could be a very long time. His rent is due at the end of the month and his sub salary can't cover both expenses. He runs his hand over her smooth and shiny curves and decides to be grateful the school's within walking distance.

He bumps into a gorgeous brunette at the grocery store. They're both going for the same box of cereal. He apologizes. She smiles.

Alison's reading Shakespeare on the beach when a dog comes looking for food. It's limping. He gives it a sandwich and the dog just sits down. Alison calls it Oberon.

He gets a call from the principal; they'd like to make his job permanent. Gym teacher. He can hear his dad laughing at his lack of ambition in his head, but he's thrilled. He shows up early, leaves late. He coaches two teams.

He sits on the couch watching TV. His arm is around Alison; Oberon's head is on her lap. He doesn't know what's on.

He tries to be romantic about it, but is too excited to wait. Alison is just stepping out of the shower when he blindsides her with the ring. Her face is shining; her wet hair drips down her forehead and tears slide down her cheeks. She says yes.

She's beautiful. His friends all say so. Kira doesn't mind not being a bridesmaid, although he offers to put her in a suit and make her best man. Eric and Ethan laugh. Everyone is laughing.

It's all a blur. He sees their faces: Eric, his mother, his father, Alison, Kira, Ethan, Hayley, Tommy, Trent... Somewhere there's a dog barking. He hears the low purr of a car engine. The indistinguishable shouts of a soccer field, the sun beating down so that his neck warms and he sees orange when he closes his eyes. No, red. Heat and red. Red and heat.  
Heat.  
Heat, _heat_, HEAT!  
He explodes— there's energy bursting within him, flowing out of him... in, out, up, down, everywhere, he is surrounded in electric light, and then there's blackness, and then there is nothing.

* * *

The first thing Conner felt was warm pressure on his hand. The second thing was an unnatural thickness in his throat. He opened his eyes, blinked, saw a blue hump around his lips, and promptly choked. The pressure left his hand— Alison had been grabbing him, he realized, recognizing the bounce of her hair as she ducked into the hallway. "He's awake!" she called out. "I need a nurse, he's awake!"

The nurses extubated him, and he coughed, gasped, swallowed air in great bursts. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore," he said, "tired."

"Baby, how are you doing?" Alison asked, swooping back down and grabbing his hand again. He felt the brief press of her lips to his, then she pulled back to swim in and out of his vision. "Eric and your mom are here, your dad's flight comes in late tonight. I tried to bring Obie in, but they said dogs were 'unsanitary.'" Conner tried to laugh, but his throat was so dry it was a weak wheeze.

"Do you want some water?" the nurse asked. He nodded.

It was cold and delicious. Some of it dribbled down his chin and neck, sliding past the folds of his hospital gown and striking hard, making him hiss. It was minor, but it was a shock to his system all the same, dragging him out of his haze and into the sharp contrast of being.

He had questions. He had time yet for answers.


End file.
